


Summer Rain

by closetsherlockian



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alley Sex, Anal Sex, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Rimming, Shameless Smut, bottom!John, sex in the rain, top!Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1360297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closetsherlockian/pseuds/closetsherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My first ever attempt at writing smut. A short PWP fic where Sherlock and John fuck in a dirty alleyway during a summer thunderstorm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything like this before, so please be kind. I doubt it's the best smut out there, but I wanted to give it a shot anyway.

It was absolutely roasting. And, of course, John spent the whole day running about London with Sherlock and successfully managing to lose one of his favourite jumpers along the way to try and stay cool. Of course, what the English considered a heatwave would be nothing more than a warm day elsewhere, it didn’t stop Sarah asking him to come into the clinic to treat hoards of people with heatstroke. But, of course, John would never willingly leave Sherlock’s side. But spending the day in the sweltering sun and humidity was worth it because he got to admire Sherlock without his iconic Belstaff.  
  
And of _course_ Sherlock wore a white button up  t-shirt and rolled up the sleeves so his slender arms were on display. And naturally Sherlock’s shirt slowly became see-through because he was also feeling the heat, although he would never admit to it. The way the thin shirt stuck to his body made John’s heart skip a beat or two, but then again just being in Sherlock’s presence made his body react in all kinds of ways. He’ll never forget the time he and Sherlock snuck into Anderson’s office and decided to “christen” his desk. What was even better was Anderson discovering the footage from the CCTV and hearing him curse and yell at the top of his lungs, but due to budget cuts there was no way he could get it replaced. It wasn’t his finest moment, but John allowed himself to fall into a giggle fit with Sherlock and his face was just that little bit more smug when he greeted Anderson at every crime scene.  
  
Sherlock and John left the NSY after filling out the tedious paperwork and trying to stop Sherlock from giving Anderson a massive clip across the ear. Secretly, though, John couldn’t wait until the day Anderson got any trace of sense knocked out of him. To be honest, John was starting to believe he’d be the one doing it. There was only so many times he could listen to Anderson call his Sherlock “freak” and “psychopath” and hint that he thought Sherlock was the one who put the body on the ground.  
  
For some strange reason Sherlock’s ability to make a cab appear out of thin air was failing him.  
  
“Sherlock, you’re a bloody genius. There must be some way for you to get a cab” John moaned. “We both absolutely reek of sweat and need a shower the second we get home."  
  
Sherlock smirked at his lover with a raised eyebrow. “Are you propositioning me, John? And in public as well. It’s just not decent.”  
  
His body seemed to have a Pavlovian response to Sherlock’s rich baritone. But then again, he would get half hard just by looking at a Sherlock, however, it was always his voice that made his heart race.  
  
“Well, maybe I am. Consider it incentive to find a taxi. I bet it’s going to rain soon.”  
  
Just as John finished his sentence the heavens opened and it began to pour. John looked at Sherlock and he knew he was in trouble. Before he had a chance to speak Sherlock grabbed his hand and all but pulled him towards the alleyway by the end of the road. Sherlock shoved John against the wall and held his face in those incredible hands, his fingers digging into his short hair.  
  
“I don’t think I can wait until we get home” Sherlock whispered and pressed his mouth to John's.

There was nothing chaste or tender about Sherlock's kiss. It was pure, unadulterated desire and desperation. John welcomed Sherlock's tongue and entwined it with his own, drawing a low moan from Sherlock's throat. He could feel Sherlock's heart pounding in his chest and a wave of goosepimples through his thin, transparent shirt, now clinging to his skin because of the rain.

Sherlock made quick work of John's belt and fly and fell to his knees in the dirt.

"Sherlock...oh god...please..." John moaned, voice barely louder than a whisper. He threw his head back against the wall and ran his fingers through his lover's hair when he felt Sherlock's warm mouth around his cock.

Feeling Sherlock's devilish tongue slowly, torturously swirling around the head of his cock was indescribable. Sherlock ran his tongue up and down his shaft, flicking the underside of the head with such precision John felt his knees shake. The detective hollowed his cheeks and began to suck hard, desperate to bring as much pleasure to John as his could. The salty taste of John's precome made Sherlock's leaking cock throb in his pants, now pressing hard against the fabric. John knew he wouldn't last long and he needed more. He began to fuck Sherlock's mouth in earnest, incredibly glad he lacked a gag reflex.

"I want you to fuck me, Sherlock. I need to feel you. Please..." he groaned. Sherlock barely suppressed a laugh around his cock and feeling his mouth's vibration almost made John come on the spot. Sherlock roughly pulled down John's trousers and pants and forced him to turn around, stomach pressed against the dirty alley wall. He massaged John's arse between his hands and placed rough kisses across the left and then the right. John had to bite into his wrist to suppress his moans. Feeling Sherlock's tongue gently lapping at his hole, however, was enough to break him. Feeling the tip breach him was unlike anything he ever felt before. They had never tried this during their incredibly inventive sexual exploits and John seriously began to question why.

"Oh God, Sherlock, please don't stop. That feels amazing," he cried. John no longer cared who heard or saw him - a sweet mixture of sweat, rain and shameless lust all but destroyed any inhibitions he still had left.

Sherlock put one long finger into his mouth and loudly sucked on it, knowing full well it would drive John wild. "You want me to fuck you, John? Feel my fingers and cock fucking your tight hole?"

"Oh, god yes. Fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me."

Sherlock slowly pushed his finger in, careful to not go too fast and hurt his John. He felt John's muscles clench around him and try to pull his finger deeper.

"Sherlock...more, I need more. Please don't tease me. I can take it. Fuck me hard. Please, Sherlock", John begged. He began to tremble and knew he wouldn't last much longer. He was never a man to beg for anything, but like many other things in his life, Sherlock Holmes became an exception and he had no qualms in begging for him.

"Fuck, John, you're so fucking tight," Sherlock groaned as he forced a second finger into his lover, now coated with the lube he had taken into keeping on his person at all times. Ever since that faithful night in Manchester he discovered just how much he enjoyed sex and had become insatiable. Now lacking any patience whatsoever Sherlock roughly streched John open, just enough to take his cock with as little pain as possible.

Sherlock quickly undid his trousers and groaned loudly when he finally touched his cock, flushed red and impossibly hard. He roughly slicked his shaft with as much lube as he could, conscious that the rain could wash it away. The rain was coming down hard, and thunder began to clap around them.

John folded his arms on the wall and rested his head on his forearms, pushing his arse out as far as he could, ready to thrust back onto Sherlock's cock. He began to pant and tremble with desire when he felt the head of Sherlock's cock press against his hole, streched and desperate to take him.

"Fuck, John. God you're so tight. Incredible, absolute perfection," Sherlock cried when he pushed in to the hilt. His cock was surrounded by John's tight heat and he began to thank his lucky stars they were both tested and there was no need for a barrier between them."

"Sherlock," John panted, "for fuck's sake move!"

Slowly Sherlock pulled back and sharply thrust back into John's arse, reveling in the sound of skin smacking against skin. If John wanted a hard fucking he would deliver.

John met each of Sherlock's thrusts and he felt the detective's hand wrap around his neck and pull him back. It wasn't something he would ever admit, but he craved the feeling Sherlock's fingers tighten across his throat when they fucked.

"You trust me, John. Trust me with your life. You like it when I do this, don't you? Fuck your tight hole like a dirty whore in an alleyway, taking away your control. But no one else, John. Only me. _You. Are. Mine._ "

"Yours, Sherlock. Only yours. Fuck you feel so good" John croaked out, gasping as much breath as Sherlock would allow.

Sherlock snaked his right hand around John's hips and grabbed John's cock. He knew just how John liked it - hard, fast and rough. He wrapped his fingers around his length and began to stroke him in time with his thrusts, twisting his palm around the head, using John's come as lubricant.

John felt his balls tighten and a warm heat coil in his stomach. It wouldn't be long now.

"I'm so close, Sherlock. I'm going to...so close..."

"Come for me, John. I want to feel you come all over me," Sherlock hissed into John's ear.

John pushed back onto Sherlock's cock and felt himself come into Sherlock's hand, still pumping, drawing out every bit of pleasure. Sherlock let go of John's throat and grabbed onto his hips with such force he knew there would be bruises tomorrow and fucked him relentlessly.

"Oh, John...ngh...oh God..."

"Come inside me, Sherlock. I want, need to feel you."

With one last, hard thrust Sherlock arched his back and came inside is lover, feeling as though his knees were going to give out. He collapsed onto John's back and placed soft, tender kisses on his neck.

"You are amazing, John. So amazing. God, I love you so much."

John smiled and slowly stop upright, giving Sherlock time to gently pull out of him. Sherlock's cum began to leak down his thigh, a glorious reminder that will stay for the rest of the afternoon. Both men righted their clothes and then Sherlock pulled John into his arms, giving him a chance to delicately stroke John's neck, just to know he didn't unintentionally hurt his blogger.

"Sherlock?" John whispered.

"Yes, love?"

"It's stopped raining"

Sherlock laughed and nuzzled his nose into John's hair, breathing in the unique, sweetly musky scent that was all John.

"A fine deduction that, John. Nice to see I'm rubbing off on you"

John stood up on the tips of his toes and kissed Sherlock's beautiful, cupid-bow lips. "It's one of the many reasons why I love you."

Sherlock wrapped one arm around John's waist and walked onto the street, finally able to hail a taxi to take them home to Baker Street.


End file.
